Bullet Proof
by jaugarjet15
Summary: Sometimes all you need is a little jealousy to realize how you really feel.
1. Chapter 1

_ Preface:_ It's bitter cold and around three am when the moon finds a dark skinned man being pushed on to the grimy streets of a New York City alley. He's being shoved by another man in his early thirties; a killing light glints in his intense green eyes. The icy wind blows into them like the ocean tide slamming into cliffs, whipping the two men's jackets around them.

The green eyed man looks down at the other, now sprawled on his back and struggling to get up. Not an ounce of pity is to be seen. After a moment of admiration for his handy work, the man standing takes out a gun from his holster and points it directly at the others heart. A slow smirk draws across his face right before he pulls the trigger.

_Two months earlier:_

Percy was pleased. More then pleased actually, something even more rare for Division's mastermind to feel; Percy was satisfied. In his line of work, there was always some sort of latter to climb. Someone to fool, someone to manipulate, something to gain. But the past 48 hours had brought on an aberration to a tricky issue in Division and even more unusually, for the better.

Nikita, Nikita. On a average day, the vile piece of street trash would have made him gag, but it was now because of her own foolish actions that ensured the loyalty of his finest warrior, his second in command; Michael. Minion was not a proper word to describe Michael, although more ignorant and naive fools may have called him that. Michael could think for himself and take the reins as a true leader without instruction, yet refrained from questioning his authority or reasons. It was a rare trait to find amongst his numbers and because of Nikita, Michael was in the palm of Percy's hand yet again.

Was revenge really so sweet and rewarding as to wait over nine years for it? Percy idly wondered to himself while sipping a celebratory drink. Yes thought Percy with the slightest of smirks. Yes it was.

* * *

Birkhoff was rambling, _again_. Alex gave an unobtrusive glance at the clock near the back of the room. Ten minuets left, damn it she thought. Yes learning the functions of a laptop so one could more easily hacked it was rather important. Interesting? Um, _no_. Well maybe to Birkhoff it was, but Alex didn't care what he thought unless she needed to get something out of him for Nikita.

"And that my young grasshoppers, is how the mother board controls most of the laptop's functions. Any questions? Anyone?"

The whole class was restless, and fidgeting to get out of the lab.

"No one has a question? No one _at all?_" Birkhoff told the class, mocking astonishment in his voice.

"He's going to give us a pop quiz isn't he?" Although Jaden whispered this to the girl next to her, Alex was the one that responded.

"Yes, yes he is."

Before Jaden could even shoot a snide glare in Alex's direction, Birkhoff continued his sentience.

"Wonderful! This means you won't grumble like the teeny teenyboppers you are, when I give you a pop quiz then!"

Needless to say the whole class groaned. Alex gave a deep internal sigh. Although she pretended to be awful at hacky computerie stuff, she really wasn't too shabby. But in order to keep her cover, some acting was nearly always in high order. One of the many things Nikita had taught her, was how to remain under the radar. No recruit ever started out good in anything, and everyone has to fight, cheat and manipulate everyone else they could, to survive.

Alex looked over her quiz sheet contemplatively, considering each question carefully. The answer's were easy for Alex to conjure up, but left the third question wrong to mislead Birkhoff. Alex finished before most of the class,but pretended to continue working. Alex used her free minuets to think about how to resolve her newest dilemma. The near disaster that had almost occurred in the past two days was yet to be resolved. Right now she needed a plan, one that mostly centered around a way to manipulate Jaden. Alex needed to talk to Nikita.

* * *

Light streamed in through the giant windows of Nikita's spacious loft, adding a soft morning glow to the light wood floors. Nikita was already awake surreptitiously cleaning her guns in the early morning light. A few quiet pings alerted her to answer a call from Alex. Nikita worried about her young protege frequently, but this, helping Nikita take down Division was what Alex had insisted on doing.

_**I have a question for you.**_

_**Sure. Is everything OK? **_ Nikita typed quickly, icy fear beginning to trickle into her stomach

_**Yes and no. To get Michael's tracking number to you, I had to do some risky stuff. Right now I'm in a tight corner. Any ideas? **_The fear began to drain out of her stomach, but Alex was right about not wanting to be in a tight corner. Nikita considered her answer carefully before entering it into the computer.

_**Use their weaknesses against them. Any new INTEL? **_

_**Not yet. I'll get back to you when I see something. **_Nikita paused, debating on whether to ask Alex about the thing that had been keeping her up at night.

_**How's Michael? **_Nikita couldn't help but ask. She had saved his life, but the man could not see beyond his own pain and guilt to understand why she did it. Nikita was had hoped that once the initial anger faded away Michael that she had done it for him. Or at least that was what she kept telling herself.

_**Behind closed doors. I saw him taking the shit out of a punching bag earlier though. He doesn't look too good. **_Nikita took a deep breath to stop the prickling sensation in her eyes. What was she thinking? If Michael's burning desire to take revenge on Kasim had lasted _nine years_, why should she think he would get over losing the chance to kill the damn bastard in a few days? The tight knot in her stomach proved that she had been hoping anyway.

_**Thanks. Keep your eyes open, and BE CAREFUL! **_Nikita couldn't stress that enough to her headstrong partner.

_**I know, I know. Talk to you soon**_

_**User is now off line **_

Back at Division, Alex continued to stare at the computer screen. Honestly Alex didn't want to be on Jaden's hit list. This was also an opportunity to change that, if Alex could be clever enough. But how to trick Jaden? An idea was already forming her head, and Alex knew it would be her riskiest yet.

* * *

**AN: Hmm. Thoughts? Should I continue?  
**

**-Jaug **


	2. Chapter 2

_One month and three weeks earlier

* * *

_

Nikita's fingers moved gracefully across the key board researching the building plans for a new potential safe house. It was still early afternoon when she decided to take a break. After a moment of deliberation Nikita decided to take a walk around central park, but stopped when her eyes fell on Michael's dagger. She didn't like this feeling that had percolated throughout her whole body since leaving Uzbekistan. Knowing Michael was upset, probably hateful toward her was not a pleasant feeling in the slightest.

Nikita sat down on her bed and looked out the huge widows that adorned her safe house. For the umpteenth time she wondered if she had done the right thing. She had saved his life, but his heart and soul were in tatters. Even worse was Michael's potential new found confidence in Division. Now how was she going to bring him back into the light when Percy's pit of darkness had nearly swallowed him whole?

If there was anything Nikita hated other then Division, it was not having a plan. Right now she was in dire need of a plan B.

* * *

A sharp rap on the door caused Amanda look up from the profile she was reading.

"Yes, James?"

"The prisoner is ready for you."

"I'll be right down."

There were three main steps to interrogation Amanda used to get her patients to divulge their Intel.

Step one: Attack their physical health. This step often had to be repeated due to very reluctant patients and if Amanda was feeling complacent or not. Begging amused her and some days she needed a good laugh.

Step two: Attack their emotional psyche. Sometimes this step was pitifully easy and other times it was more tedious and could take hours of research to find something worth consideration. There were several variations of this step that changed to fit the circumstance.

Step three was by far Amanda's favorite, because it was the most challenging. The main objection was to give the patient hope, then right before the very end, snatch it away like a cookie from a child. Amanda felt it was unfortunate that this step often had to be skipped because the patient had already given up their Intel.

Amanda wasn't particularly interested by Division's newest prisoner. Although playing with people's emotions _without restraints,_ was always a delightful change from her everyday routine. There was nothing Amanda loved more then a good challenge.

* * *

A man is slumped in a metal chair in Division's basement. His black hair is greasy and damp with blood and sweat. His shirt and pants are ripped and dirty, his deep brown eyes have retained a crazed glint in the artificial light.

"Your name?"

"A hero." The men drawls, not quite able to register the strangely sinister sheen of Amanda's icy cobalt eyes.

"Is that so. Is your real name so difficult to give up? Surely if your kin really cared about you, they would have at least tried to get you back."

She circled the man and leaned in toward her left ear.

"We haven't heard a whisper."

Amanda walked around the chair so she was again facing the prisoner. To her amusement, the man gave a short bark of laughter.

"You will soon hear much more then a whisper."

* * *

Michael sat in his office, slowly writing a report for Percy. He had hoped finishing this report would help get his mind off things, but no such luck. Ever since returning from Uzbekistan he had felt numb. In the heat of the moment all he could feel was the rage, the hatred and the grief that very nearly consumed him. The past few days he had almost feel nothing at all.

But now he was just tired. All Michael really wanted, was to be able to go back to the loft he owned so he could be by himself and just sleep. After all that had transpired, Michael had a nagging suspicion Percy would actually grant him the day off. Unfortunately that was not the case. It wasn't often, but occasionally Amanda would ask Michael to help her play good cop bad cop. Most of the time Roan was the one who helped her conduct the more physical aspects to her elaborate interrogations. However unlike Roan, Michael was articulate with bullets _and_ words

The hall Division's second in command walked down was insipid and smelled of bleach with an after taste of ammonia. When Michael stepped inside the infamous room thirteen, he saw a man crumpled on the hard concrete floor.

Pulling up a chair, Michael looked down at the man with a limited sense of sympathy.

"So how did you get here?"

"With honor." he croaked, his throat sore from screaming.

Michael watch the man with a cold heart. He was obviously middle eastern from his dark skin tone and facial features. Right now anyone from that retched place reminded him of Kasim. His eyes darkened, remembering.

"You've only lasted a week of torture, and a one day of our lead interrogator. I'm not impressed ."

"You Americans. Always trying to be the best."

Michael didn't smile. The weak jibe had done nothing to insult him in the slightest. Even so, there was a reason Amanda was in charge of these type of affairs.

"Actually I believe the record is held by a Russian."

"Now that I doubt. I surprised you haven't asked me about my brother."

"I'm not very sentimental in case your wondering."

"Really? I herd you were quite torn up when he disposed of your petty wive and spawn." The man smirked deliriously, completely unaware of the grievous mistake he just committed.

Michael cocked his head to one side and regarded the man in a seemingly contemplative stare. On the inside, Michael's emotional turmoil began to churn violently. Only time had given him the control to appear so that one couldn't even suggest he felt like someone was running a knife through his abdomen.

"You know what? This is getting boring. Your barbs are even worse and more pitiful then the last prisoner we had. I think I'll call my colleague back in here, what do you think?"

Michael smiled inwardly when the mans eyes widened and breathing increased.

"Have fun," He said with a slight smirk.

The man began to violently twist and squirm trying to get out of his restraints, while yelling in rapid Urdu. Without another word, Michael waltzed out of the room and never looked back.

* * *

Back in Percy's office a phone rang.

"Yes?" Percy questioned putting the phone to his ear. A man on the opposite line gave a polite welcome. Once recognizing the other man's voice, Percy furrowed his brow in confusion and interest.

"Ari Taserov. To what do I owe the pleasure?


	3. Chapter 3

_One month ago

* * *

_

A few weeks had passed since that fateful call from Gogle and Percy was feeling very thoughtful concerning the current developments. This was going to be a fascinating partnership. Gogle had an agent. A _very _smart one, who now knew too much for comfort and just so happened to have a bone to pick with Kasim- to put things lightly judging from her past history. In short, Gogle wanted her gone.

Percy looked up from his report to find Michael standing in front of his desk, looking blandly down at him.

"Yes?"

"I have a proposition for you. How would you like to take down Kasim, with a partner?"

Michael's eyes widened in surprise for a fraction of a second before retracting back to there normal size. Percy had forgotten how good he could be at hiding his emotions. Michael swallowed hard before answering.

"Who?"

* * *

Percy and Michael entered Birkhoff's work space were he was playing something that looked suspiciously like PAC man. Michael rolled his eyes and Percy frowned slightly looking down at the increasingly scruffy computer genius.

"Birkhoff, how would you like to work now?" Percy asked him, his voice dangerously soft.

Birkhoff jumped violently in his seat, knocking his red bull spiked coffee precariously close to the edge of his desk.

"Yes sir!" Birkhoff cried in surprise "Um I mean, I'm not, NO I mean uh,"

"Birkhoff look up the name Anastasia Kaptsov." Michael barked before Birkhoff could stutter. Percy smiled vaguely in the back round.

"Yessir." Birkhoff replied, still shaky from Percy popping up from behind .

A series of articles and a picture promptly materialized on the overhead screens. Birkhoff slowly began to scroll down waiting for Michael or Percy to stop him.

"Print that out and all related records will you Birkhoff?" Michael said pointing at a particularly tragic article where a family was killed by a terrorist group trying to attain military Intel. Out of the family members, the mother, father and identical twin daughters, only one of girls had survived the initial attack.

"A please would be-"

"It's not going to happen Birkhoff." Turning to glare stiffly at Michael, Birkhoff bent back over his computer and did what he was asked. It wasn't that the two disliked each other, in fact they might have been decent friends had they not met through Division. The root of problem was the amount stress, a perpetual weight on their shoulders. The problem was how they dealt with the pressure. Michael became too up tight and controlled, Birkhoff became irritable and finicky. Like all opposites, when the two came together they clashed.

"Fine."

Michael walked over to the printer and scanned the article intently looking for the telltale signs that Kasim and Gogle had been involved. According to the article and official records, Anastasia Kaptsov died in the local hospital she had been rushed to, soon after one of her attacker had failed to slit her throat. According to Gogle she had survived and now held the same position Michael did in Division's hierarchy. Still looking down at the files Michael gestured for Percy to follow him out operations.

"May I ask why Gogle wants Division's help. Looking at past … run ins, I don't remember us being friendly." Michael glowered at Percy, clearly skeptical.

"Ari had feels that Miss Kaptsov is becoming disloyal."

"So? Why not cancel her themselves if she's such a problem?"

The older man simply raised an eyebrow at him. Michael refrained from rolling his eyes and sighed. He knew not to question Percy's motives right now. It would be suspicious. He wouldn't turn a blind eye though. Percy's schemes had bit him in the ass far too many times and it wasn't about to happen again.

"Do that have any proof?"

"Yes. On a recent hit job the target went underground before Gogle even fired a shot. Kaptsov was the last one to contact him."

Ari had also heard rumors of Percy's newest pain in the neck. A way to dispose of the both of them he said. Not that Michael needed to know that. If this grand plot of his was going to occur without too many variations, Michael would need to be kept in the dark about some things. Over the years Percy had found that the best way to keep a plan from failing, was to tell everyone involved what they needed to know, but never the whole picture. That alone was for himself to enjoy. Even Amanda was not privy to _everything_, even though she did know much more then nearly everyone else.

"So what are you planing to do?"

"I'll tell you when the time comes. Just be ready."

Michael looked at Percy wearily before trudging to his office to read the reports, unease seeping into his chest.

* * *

This is _really_ uncomfortable Alex thought, while trying not to hit her head against the vent wall. The young woman had spent the better part of two days spying on Jaden in various locations around Division. Just now Alex was in a vent outside her room waiting for Jaden to come out, so she could sneak _in_.

An hour of immeasurable boredom later finally saw Jaden swaggering out of her room with a satisfied expression plastered on her face. She had been seen with the same expression on her face everyday since she had broken into Alex's room and disposed of the other girls cleverly attained black mail. Jaden had grown even more suspicious after... recent events. Alex still saw _his_ face every moment her mind was not occupied with work. The moment Jaden was out of sight, Alex slipped out of her hiding place and snuck inside the room.

Once turning on the light, only one thing popped into her head. Talk about OCD she thought. Everything in the room was perfectly placed and hung. Not even a sock littered the shiny floor. Jaden had way to much free time. Alex carefully began to pick through Jaden's things, mindful of replacing them in the just right spot. After a few minuets of searching, Alex peaked into a square box and froze in surprise at the contents. Well this was certainly unexpected.

* * *

Nikita looked up at the clock again for the second time in five minuets. This was getting old. Nikita had texted Owen four hours ago, and the man had yet to respond back. Men. She needed a status up date pronto, or something, _anything _to get her mind off the bruises that littered her body and heart. Nikita supposed even if Michael hadn't wanted to bring her in he would have still had to knock her out, but the cattle prod? Oh what had she done? Was it better to be hated by Michael for saving his life, or to be beyond guilty for letting him die? When her eyes held his for the first time since Uzbekistan, she knew it was worth it.

If she was to regain Michael's trust back, Nikita knew she would have to work twice as hard as before to wear him down. She would need his help to take Division down, that much was true. If Michael jumped to her side, the possibilities were unlimited. It was increasingly useful to have Alex on the inside, but no matter how up she could climb, Michael would always know more. However it would be incredibly difficult to gain Michael's trust _and_ give him a legitimate reason to turn on Division, or more importantly, Percy.

Bzzzz

Bzzzz

"Hello?"

Nikita was shocked to say the least when a female voice was the one to answer the call.

* * *

Moonlight streamed into a silent loft, high up in the new york sky. Michael leaned back in his chair looking over the top of his lap top. Nikita's brown eyes seemed to be etched in his mind. She had escaped, not that her wriggling out of Percy's iron grasp was particularly unexpected. Well at least to Michael it wasn't, he knew her far too well. Something else he knew? There was no way Thom had been the mole. He wasn't Nikita's type, but another recruit was. When Michael stopped to thing about it, Alex and Nikita were far too alike to be a simple coincidence, then it was stone hard fact that there was _no way_ Alex could have ever taken Nikita down. She was too good to be fooled by a recruit, unless that was the plan all along. Thom should have never died.

Michael stood up suddenly to get a drink. The burn of alcohol helped to drive memories from the past away and sooth the pain that accompanied them. He really needed to stop reminiscing about the past he thought, and like many nights, his thoughts were around Elisabeth and Haley. Only three people in the world had been told about Michael's family, but only two of them knew the whole story.

"_Why Michael? What drives you follow Percy like some sort of guard dog? What is it?" She spat venomously._

"_I thought we already went over this Nikita, I owe him. Period." Michael was tired from their recent mission, and Nikita's tirades. There was no way she was going to guilt the answer she wanted out of him. _

"_We both know that's not all Michael. What happened?" Her voice was softer now, more pleading and practically irresistible. What now? How could he not give in the brown eyes that gazed so pleadingly into his green ones? This explanation was going to be short and simple as possible. Any more and all of his heart would be forever lost into Nikita's clutches._

"_Five years ago a terrorist murdered my family. I was injured and was ready to kill myself, then Percy came in and offered the one thing I wanted more then anything else."_

"_Revenge." she barely breathed her answer._

"_Yes."_

Michael had never told anyone other Nikita about his past, but she never knew that he had a wife and a daughter. Percy knew it because he himself had lead Michael away from his old life and Amanda simply knew it from Percy by default.

Now Michael was glad he never told Nikita the full story. At the time he felt if he let her have any more control over him, which was a considerable amount already, she would be the end of him. For a while he had felt guilty for not telling her about Haley and Elisabeth, but now she couldn't torture him by taunting their names, leaving him to asphyxiate in renewed pain while she ran off to once again be obscured in oblivion. Michael had yet to use Nikita's own feelings against her for his personal gain, because he knew how much it hurt. He had thought she was decent enough to return the favor. Maybe he didn't really know her anymore. Maybe she did care, or perhaps she just felt guilty. Right now, he couldn't bring himself to care.

As for Alex, Michael decided to wait and see wait came his way. Nikita had trusted her life with the girl and if she _was _the mole, maybe next time he wouldn't be the one hesitating. Michael did suspected that Thom's dead was an accident, but letting him fall for the blame was cruel. The only question now, was what next?

* * *

Amanda flared her nose in distaste at the prisoner on the cold, hard floor. It had been four weeks since he had been taken captured by Division. The stench of death rose like toxic fumes from his beaten body, still warm from his stolen life. Although far from a challenge to manipulate, he was a surprising swell of information about a particularly popular terrorist. Regardless on how simply _boring _the man was to interrogate, Percy would be very pleased with unwittingly exposed clues to the location of Kasim's safe house.

"_What exactly are you planning to do with Ari? We both know the Kaptsov woman is the best they have."_

"_Oh I know that Amanda, in fact she's excellent. And that is precisely why we are going to make sure she doesn't come out alive."_

"_And as for Michael? If he comes back breathing, Gogle will immediately blame you unless... You plan to dispose of him too."She told him, realization dawning on her face.  
_

"_You know just as well as I, the moment Michael has what he wants, his loyalty in me and Division will disintegrate faster then Elliot Spitzers reputation."_

"_Do you really think it's a wise move to replace Michael? You may not be aware of this, but he is very good at his job. It will also be rather difficult to trick two extremely dangerous and well trained agents to walk willingly into a death trap."_

"_Oh Amanda, I know, and that is exactly why you will the one setting them up. Besides, I already have a replacement in the works."_

"_And who would that be? Roan?"_

"_Patience Amanda. Patience." _

Poor Michael didn't have a clue. At least not yet, because Amanda would make sure he did.

* * *

**AN: Thoughts? Oh and don't expect an update too soon. I , sadly have finals this week and I've got to study instead of write, although I know I would much rather do one more then the other. Thanks for reading and reviews always much appreciated. **

**-Thanks, Jaug  
**


	4. Chapter 4

_Three weeks_

* * *

Nikita was at an airport waiting for Owen. Part of her wanted to give him the silent treatment, and the other kick is ass and scream at him for not being more careful. However she was early, and would have some time to kill before his plane arrived. Nikita slowly mulled over the latest Intel Alex had been able to give her. A very important gala was coming up. One that Percy himself would be attending. This would be an priceless chance to spoil a valuable opportunity right beneath his nose.

The gala would be held in the Waldorf Astoria where Alex, a newly minted agent had found an explosives expert would be meeting with Percy in a privet room. Finding a way to listen in a the meeting would not be entirely difficult, but getting in would. A guest would be out of the question. Far too obvious, especially after the last dinner party Percy and her met at. However her musing were interrupted. Owen came up to the bench she sat on, arms crossed and eyes glaring daggers at him. For a moment. He just stared sheepishly at a very mift Nikita before speaking.

"I can explain."

"Why does that sound familiar?" Her tone was irritable and sharp.

"Nikita,-"

"Did you get the box or not?"

"I found the location, but obtaining the box will be much more difficult."

"It's not safe here. We'll talk at my loft." She said in such a way that Owen felt it was in his best interest to stay quiet.

The moment the two rogue agents entered Nikita's loft, she turned on her heel and began to speak in a dangerously softly voice.

"Owen? What was that about 'I can explain'? You've got five minuets."

"Her names Angie. The guy who has the box happens to live in a gated community. I thought it would be less noticeable if I was just a tool guy coming to fix the shower."

His logic was perfectly sound, that was true. But how did he let 'Angie' just answer his phone?

"And you just left your phone lying around?"

"It fell out of my pocket Nikita!" Owen sounded exasperated, and if Nikita's instincts were correct [and they hardly ever weren't], they happened to be detecting a hint of embarrassment.

"Fell?" she exclaimed angrily.

"Fine! She was ...flirting with me, and I thought, why not? A better cover for me to be over there."

Nikita suddenly had a mental image of a pretty blond woman in revealing clothing giggling and looking over her shoulder as a exasperated Owen chased her around a fancy mansion, trying to obtain his stolen phone. Nikita wrinkled her nose in disapproval and narrowed her eyes with suspicion.

"You know what? I don't want to know."

"It- Nikita..." Owen paused at the look in her eyes. " Whats wrong?" He says, concern coloring his voice, all exasperation gone.

"Your one of the only two allys I have. I need to keep you safe."

The truth was Nikita was afraid to be alone. It had been only her for _so long_. Yes she did have Alex, but she was held up in Division now and Nikita couldn't afford to worry about anyone else, herself included. Owen had proved to be reasonably trust worthy, and [although she would never tell him this] he was actually funny, in a witty, sarcastic, accidental sort of way. It was nice to have a partner, a friend. To her comment, Owen just raised his eyebrows and moved on to what she had really wanted to talk to him when 'Angie' had picked up the phone.

"So you need back up for this gala?"

"You up for it lady killer?" Owen rolled his eyes at this, but he much rather be teased by Nikita then yelled at.

"One thing. You'll need a date, and a important one to get in."

"Oh I know. And I know exactly who I'm going to ask." she said with a smile

* * *

Early morning found Michael in a busy little cafe, but he wasn't there for the coffee. Just yesterday Michael had heard the few words he had been yearning to hear; _Kasim has been spotted_. Apparently the Intel had come from Gogle and a meeting was promptly arranged between Anastasia Kaptsov and himself.

The cafe was quaint and attractive with a small vases of roses on every table. Said vases were also nifty hiding places for bugs to be placed. Something told him that both Division and Gogle had some cute little listening devices hidden _all over_. However it was a matter that, abet irritating, could be resolved in a way that would be infuriating to those who placed the bugs. After a quick scan of the vicinity Michael fond that Kaptsov was early, already gracefully draped in a seat with a drink nestled in her hands. Michael took his own coffee from the cashier and murmured a thank you before heading off toward Ari's favorite agent.

It would be a lie to say that she was not beautiful. Soft curled dark red hair cascading around high, hollowed cheek bones and an oval face with deep set grassy green eyes. It was difficult to find ones strengths from just looking, but Michael tell that she was very strong, but not fast. With her tall, lean frame, it took many years to gain speed. But that didn't mean she had poor endurance.

Besides her beauty, there was also something about her that reminded him of Amanda. Wearing stylish clothing, Kaptsov obviously had the same knack for fashion. But there was also a type of effortless elegance and poise about the two woman with an edge of something sinister just below the surface. Unlike Amanda whose eyes were more frigid and unfeeling then ice, Kaptsov eyes, although different in color, were like the ocean. Mysterious and quiet teaming with _something_ just below the surface.

"Michael I presume?" She said as he sat down in the chair opposite her.

"Good morning Miss Kaptsov" he responded amicably. They shook hands briefly before continuing pleasantries.

"I prefer Ana if you don't mind."Her voice was very smooth, almost modulated, and perfectly unoffensive.

"Not at all."

There was a pause as a strange sort of tension began to build between them. It wasn't awkward, but it wasn't comfortable either.

"Nine years waiting for vengeance... I must say I admire your patience." A smile was forming on her beautiful face, her eyes looking cordially into his. She tucked a loose red curl behind her ear.

"You?" The full question was implied. Neither of them needed to voice the whole thought.

"Seven years." Ana's voice grew soft and she turned away from Michael to gaze at something he couldn't see . Michael continued to look at her thoughtfully until she spoke again, her voice growing stronger with every word.

"His end is long overdue." She moved her dark gaze to again meet Michael's eyes.

"I couldn't agree more."

There was another beat of silence before Ana spoke again.

"So, on to business." She said while pulling out several plain files from beside her chair and then handed them to Michael.

"Our dear friend Kasim is planing to buy a huge shipment of automatic artillery from this fine gentleman, Abbud Hameed. He's also a merchant of explosives, poisons and alcohol among other things."

"Sounds delightful." Michael responded coolly. "And how did Gogle get this Intel again?"

"We've have an agent working in deep cover for quite some time. Gogle was originallyy going for Hameed, but Ari decided to catch two birds with one stone."

"Do we know where the meet is?"

For a moment Ana looked at him with her eyebrows raised before glancing at the rose vase on the table. Damn. Michael had forgotten about the bugs. He gestured toward her in a way the showed he knew what she meant.

"We leave for Uzbekistan in a week."

"Contact information?"

"In the files" Ana said beginning to get up. Michael copied her and they began to walk to the exit. As he opened the door for her she paused.

"And... Nice to meet you."

In a moment those sharp green eyes softened slightly as if she wasn't sure why she was saying this to him, a natural adversary. Or really, Michael realized neither of them true enemies. Ari and Percy were, but they chose to be. Michael had heard enough stories from Percy portraying Gogle and Ari like a New York rat, with minute value and being evil and cruel to the point of no return. On the other hand, Percy and Division could be just as ruthless. Michael liked to think he was more merciful, although he was far from some saint. He could be heartless and he knew Ana could too. The difference was Ana and him had both been wronged awfully; been inducted into these two organizations in hopes of finally gaining revenge and in turn closure for the murders of their families. Had they met anywhere else, they might have become friends.

"You too." Michael nodded his head politely in acknowledgment. There really was no need for hostility between the two of them. If she wasn't killed, an ally in Gogle wouldn't be a bad thing to have.

Ana nodded her head in agreement, and with that the two agents were on their way.

* * *

"So?" Percy looked expectantly at Amanda from a plush leather seat from inside his office.

"It's too early to tell Percy" Amanda responded with an air of impatience. As much as she admired Percy's manipulative nature, she was wise enough to know that his hunger for power would lead him to disastrous results if he wasn't cautious. This deal with Ari was going to be precarious at best. Amanda also knew that Percy was well aware it would be utterly foolish to assume Ari didn't have an ulterior motive. Then there was the unfortunate fact that if Percy burned, all of Division would burn too. Would she burn with them? Goodness no. Amanda had configured a evacuation plan the moment she joined Percy. However she didn't want to see all of Division die. Too much potential would be wasted. Fortunately Michael and the Kaptsov would be equally useful and lethal weapons.

"Although I do doubt your fears would occur. Comparing their past records It's my opinion that a romantic relationship between the two of them would be highly unlikely."

However, it was much more then likely that the two would become good friends if they survived Kasim as well as Percy's trap, but he didn't need to be told. Besides, if all went the way she wanted, Division and Gogle would become allies.

"Are you attending the gala tomorrow?" Amanda asked Percy.

"Of course I am. Business is business after all."

"I suggest you bring Michael with you."

"Oh?" Percy sat up in his seat, interested in Amanda's comment.

"Well you remember the last gala you attended. Nikita showed up and well, you know the rest."

"No need to remind me. You think Michael will foil whatever plan she has if she decides to grace us with her presence?"

"Yes. Their meeting in Uzbekistan effected Michael greatly. If I know Nikita, and I do, she's feeling guilty. When they meet each other again, it will effect her, more then him. I also suggest you have him have a date. Nikita may have loved Daniel, but she could never forget Michael."

Percy considered her thoughtfully, and after some consideration, a slight smirk came to his face.

"A way to foil Nikita's plans and make her jealous. What would I do without you?"

Amanda just smiled.

* * *

**AU: YES! It's done! Finals killed my brain, and with Christmas and everything, I mostly slept the past two weeks. I also was given the Hunger Games Trilogy. If you ever plan on reading them, her are four things you should know; **

**1] It's _really, really _sad**

**2] It's extremely well written **

**3] It's violent**

**and four...**

**4] _you can't stop READING IT!_**

**Anyways... Reviews appreciated- -Jaug**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Two Weeks_**

* * *

Michael drove in companionable silence next to Ana his Mercedes Benz. His date did look quite stunning in a flowy, blue dress with her hair done up in an elegant knot at the top of her head. Michael gave a quiet sigh, wishing he could be attending this gala without any work to be taken care of.

Percy had warned him that a certain rogue agent might be popping up and it was his duty to either capture, kill or preoccupy her until his meeting with an explosive expert named Damien Jacks had concluded. Oh how Michael wished he could just forget his job for just a few hours and perhaps have a nice time. Ana seemed pleasant enough, not that he doubted her skill as an con artist. Lying was a skill people like them _had _to be exceptional at in order to survive, especially in field work. However Michael suspected that maybe Ana wanted to relax for just one night as well. He smiled slightly remembering the call he had made to ask her to be his date.

* * *

"_Hello?"_

"_Ana it's Michael. I have a favor to ask you."_

"_Oh?"_

"_I need a date for a gala on Friday. Would you like to come?"_

"_On one condition. You actually have to dance with me, and not stand in the corner all night like some pathetic junior high dance. Other then that, I'd love to." For a moment her voice wasn't quite so smooth anymore and less robotic. From her tone Michael thought she sounded genuinely happy to be able to have a nice night out. Then of course he hadn't been out anywhere nice just for a good time since Nikita was around._

"_Deal. Is eight o clock alright?"_

"_It's perfect. Bye."_

"_Bye."

* * *

_

Their agreement wasn't going to be an issue. Elisabeth had _loved_ to dance, and Michael had been more then happy to oblige. He had gotten very good at it too. When he was married, Michael had learned as many dances as he could. The tango, waltz; he was even willing to learn square dancing with Haley when she had been in girl scouts. It was going to be nice to dance with someone again. Someone who would not turn an innocent dance into something far more sensual like someone else he knew.

Nikita. Too many things reminded him of her. A simple dance was always much more then just _simple _with her_. _A heated gaze; her slender, delicate hands sliding slowly across his arms and torso, leaving a tingling sensation in their path. His _own_ hands and eyes wandering to places he hadn't cared to look at or touch on a woman for a very long time. But once the moment had passed, guilt began to seep in, because dancing was what _Elisabeth_ loved to do with him. Not Nikita.

However this was Ana to whom he was _not_ attracted to. At least the the way he was attracted to Nikita, in fact Michael wasn't even quite sure if he liked her. On good terms? Yes, he believed so. As partners- _friends_? It was far to early to tell. Friends- the word was a nearly foreign term to him. Currently the closest thing he had to a real friend, was Birkhoff, and that was rather sad. Not that it was ever a bad thing to be friends with a computer genius. They always

came in handy to have. But, Michael thought, if he used Birkhoff's fond feelings to manipulate him to do something for his own gain, that wasn't a real friendship. To Amanda maybe, but she was a manipulative bitch and that behavior was to be expected from her. Nikita? She was always more then just a friend to Michael. Why was nothing ever simple with her?

* * *

It was a lovely apartment. With dark wood paneled flooring, creamy gray walls, and modern disined furniture, it looked like something out of an hgtv tv show.

Nikita gently patted her hair, taking care not to disrupt the immaculately curled tresses. She had chosen her dress wisely; it was short, one shouldered, black and adhered to her slim form nicely. Amanda would have approved, she thought mildly. Michael would too crossed her mind briefly before Nikita forcefully shoved the dangerous thought out of her head. She was going to have fun tonight, and that was final. Nikita's plan was potentially dangerous, but an that was why Owen was going to be back up, just in case. Other then placing the small recording device where Percy nor his minions could find it, tonight would be rather easy going compared to her other spy feats.

Even so, Nikita's favorite bebe was stashed in the silk lining of her clutch.

"You look stunning."

"Thank you Nigel." Nikita replied with a smile at his admiring face. "You don't look too bad yourself." And indeed he did look dashing in a gray tux.

Nigel Thomas was burly, blond, blue eyed, ex football player who now worked for the FBI. Nikita had found him through Ryan to whom she had met for lunch a day or so before. He was well known in the New York area for taking down several notorious gangs in the getto, and was important enough that someone would notice if he didn't show up at work the next day. Perfect. Percy despised getting the media involved unless it would serve his own gain

The FBI agent held out his arm and Nikita took it while giving a dazzling smile. She almost swore she saw him stop breathing. Convincing him to invite her hadn't been too difficult: After an "accidental" meeting at a local bar, the two had began talking about a myriad of subjects. She had skillfully told Nigel that she was visiting some friends in the area and would be returning to California on Friday, and about her love for dancing. The next day he had asked her to be his date at the gala. Nikita of course, graciously agreed.

Although she didn't to like be devious to get what she wanted, it was safer to keep Nigel out of the big picture.

Thirty minuets later Nikita and Nigel stepped inside the Waldorf to find the powerful and elite mingling about one of the hotels many ball rooms. The smell of roses, honey suckle and lavender drifted through the air. Delectable bites of food and iced champagne could be found teetering on platters, as waiters carefully navigated through the crowds. A grand pianist, cellist, violinist, and several other classical musicians created beautiful harmonies that numerous couples were already swaying to. Nigel held out his hand gesturing that they should come to the dance floor.

"Shall we?" Nigel asked her hopefully. Even though he was reasonably handsome, he couldn't believe his luck having someone like Nikita as a date.

"Of course!" A smile lit her face as she accepted the offer.

He gently put his large, muscular hands on her small waist and began to sway to the music. A more astute person than Nigel would have noticed it was like she was looking for someone in the crowd. But even if he wasn't particularly astute, he still noticed when Nikita's eyes locked on a man and woman just a few more seconds then they should have. Her grip on his shoulders became tighter and her body tensed at the sight of the couple talking and laughing. Looking unobtrusively as he could manege, Nigel began to study the couple. Both were tall and statuesque; they could have belonged in a movie. The woman's dark red hair was rich and curly; twisted in a knot with loose tendrils falling to frame her face. The strapless, airy blue dress was elegant and gave her an angelic air. The man was handsome, lean and dark, dressed in a crisp back tux and just now donned a small smirk. The red head was grinning in amusement at whatever her date had just said. Looking back at Nikita, Nigel began to wonder why she seemed sad.

* * *

Across the room Ana and Michael continued to indulge themselves bad jokes.

"That's truly awful." Michael smirked slightly wondering idly how they had begun to talk about this particular subject.

"To Birkhoff's credit, it was one of his more creative ones."

"What happened when the carrot died?, There was a huge turnip at the funeral, is creative?" Ana's green eyes widened in disbelief, then she shook her head. "I pity you. At least our head tech wiz doesn't try and be funny."

"Who's your tech wiz then?" Michael asked. It wasn't everyday he could gossip, for lack of a more masculine word, about the comings and goings of a secret black ops group.

"Jasmine is our eccentric, apathetic, sarcastic and unusually insightful computer geek, who is also a self proclaimed Harry Potter nerd." Ana said fondly. "She's also the closest thing I have to normal friend. Not that I'd ever tell her that of course. Jazzy would never live it down."

Michael gave a short laugh without really finding any humor, but he did find the irony. No, he would never tell Birkhoff either and it was then Michael caught sight of Nikita. Dancing with the ever dense Nigel Thomas no less. A mixture of jealously, irritation and lust [her dress was unlawfully short and skin tight] began to bubble up before he could squash his feelings back into the steel cadge of control he had forged so long ago. Michael saw that Ana noticed his eyes harden, and followed his gaze to find Nikita and Nigel swaying on the dance floor.

"Has Ari by any chance mentioned a Division agent by the name of Nikita?" Michael could see Ana's interest spark in her eyes.

"The same Nikita that went rogue and now takes it upon herself to destroy Division because Percy killed her fiance?"

"Yes, that Nikita." Michael replied tiredly.

Ana's answer was more understanding then cheeky. "Just checking."

"She's becoming a very big problem for Division." _For him_. Kasim would be dead by now if she hadn't interfered, but chances were he would be too. For the longest time, Michael never knew if Nikita's flirting was more then just teasing. When she prevented him from killing Kasim, he relished in the fact that perhaps Daniel was more then just a distraction from Division. That it was distraction from him too. When did things become so complicated, or an even better question, when _hadn't_ things been complicated?

"So what are are you planning to do about it?"

Michael paused for a moment realizing the meaning of her question. What _was_ he going to do about it? _Her_? He knew he was incapable of killing Nikita, there were too many witnesses for capture and there was no way she didn't have some sort of back up or nifty distraction planned. But this time Michael realized, he had a partner. A partner who may very well turn on him, yet was seemingly willing to lend a hand. In the end Michael knew his options, but it would be so much easier if he didn't have to do them alone. Nikita was plenty devious on her own and Michael had a feeling Ana was equally skilled in the art of deception. Sure he could be too, but there was something about a woman's mind that was naturally gifted at it. Percy was well taught, but he could never match Amanda. It was simple psychology and fact that men were just more strait forward. So when he opened his mouth once again, the plan once smoke drifting though his mind became stone solid.

"How good of an actress are you?"

Jealousy was an excellent way to preoccupy someone after all...

* * *

**AN: The next chapter will be up soon as possible, as always, reviews, good or bad, hugely appreciated [they **_**do**_** expedite the writing process and make it more enjoyable you know :D]. I was originally going to have her date be Ryan instead of the Nigel character, but there were a lot of complications, and tricky questions I wasn't sure how to answer. Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you continue to do so.**

**Thanks, - Jaug**


	6. Chapter 6

They were laughing. And smiling, and the woman Michael was with, wasn't her. A sense of deep hurt spread though her body in a way she hadn't felt for a very long time. The worst part was he had every right to enjoy the company of a pretty woman, and the curly red head was very pretty indeed. Then somewhere beneath the hurt, suspicion begin to rise, and a short burst of relief rushed through her heart with it. The woman was a recruit. Probably, she forced herself to add. Getting her hopes up was not an option, and she had a job to do.

The listening devices were safely hidden in the hem line of her short dress, two bumps far to small to be noticed by the naked eye. One could never be too prepared. After uttering a short apology to Nigel [bathroom, or so was her cover was at least], Nikita gracefully extracted herself from the dance floor and stealthily crept up to the floor that was littered with Division and other anonymous body guards. Actually she had already placed the bug earlier when she suck in with the cleaning crew. However Nikita knew Percy, and Percy was manipulative, and unpredictable. She had a strong gut feeling that whatever she learned tonight would somehow be much more personal then any other Intel she had received.

* * *

Two men lounged inside a hotel parlor with scotch and martinis clutched in their soft white hands, while discussing trade. The room they were in, was darkly decorated complete with sound proof walls and plush rugs softened the steps of the two men's respective body guards fidgeting around the room.

Percy and Damien Jacks were both highly distinguished, extremely well dressed and power hungry tycoons, but that was as far as the similarities went. Jacks was lean, short, and had mousy facial features with pointy ears. A black beard spawning from his face was an ill disguised attempt to hide a weak chin. Unlike Percy, Jacks got his hands dirty and had more blood, grime and gun powder on his hands then Percy had accumulated years in his reign of Division combined.

"So what is it exactly that you need Percy?"

"I need explosives powerful enough to destroy a steal in cased safe house."

.

"Anything for my best costumer." The shorter man remarked dismissively. "12,000 would cover the expenses. I'll arrange for you to pick the explosives up at the normal place."

"Good," Percy said. "You'll have half of your money wired to your Brazilian account when the first shipment arrives."

Jacks was about to rise, when he noticed that Percy had not stood up to shake, and was still smiling coldly at him. He had worked with Percy long enough to know that there was still something else he wanted. Jacks wasn't surprised.

"But that's not all is it? What can I get you that you cannot get for yourself Percy?"

"Poison. A very rare one rather unimaginatively dubbed The Widow. You would be paid quite handsomely." Percy might have stopped with the explosives, but he also knew Jacks only real weakness and motivation; _money._

Unlike other times, Jacks felt Percy was asking for a bit much. Had he any idea how difficult it would be to get _that_ particular poison?

"Said poison is also kept highly under some very trigger happy locks by Gogle." Jacks answered, displeasure coloring his tone.

Percy's answer had near flawless diction.

"Yes, and I need it."

* * *

Back at the gala Michael and Ana had drifted to the garden away from the taunting image of Nikita and Nigel. Ana simply looked intrigued at Michael's question.

"If your going in the direction I think your going in, there is only one way it would work."

Michael pretended to be indifferent toward Ana's abet correct assumption.

"And that would be?"

"Michael." She pronounced slowly, rolling her eyes, "Please. If this partnership is going to work, we need to agree on a few, shall we call then touchy subjects?"

Annoyance permeated his system, which could almost be passed off as arrogance. Really, he had no right to be either. Michael had known this conversation would have to be discussed at some point anyways. Perhaps it was because he thought he would be the one to bring it up first. Michael realized in a moment that he had been hypocritical. He was no better then Ana simply because the [mostly] ethical part of himself thought that he and Division were better then Gogle and Ana. However his epiphany did nothing to deter his irritation.

"Ana, working for who we work for... How can I even _begin_ trust you to practice what you preach?"

"I'm not, nor would I ever ask you for trust. That would be stupid." She sent him a sharp look for unknowingly insulting her intelligence. It was all he could do but glare with disdain at her comment. "What I'm asking you for, is to be truthful. I don't know about you, but I'd really rather not be killed by Kasim. Just saying."

"Depends. Would you intern be truthful to me?" Michael was angry that she even mocked him about something like that.

"Yes I would."

Michael wasn't sure why he believed her, but people like him rarely made promises, and on the rare few occasions when they did make a promise, they weren't lying about it. Somehow Michael felt he had never really been able to convey to Nikita how serious an assassin's word was. She was always so eager to help someone, and make promises to help comfort whoever she was intent on helping. The issue was that she would make promises she didn't know if she could keep.

"Fine. And while we're at it, you don't interfere with Division, and I do the same with you and Gogle, are we clear?"

"On that count, yes. There is one more thing."

"And what would that be?"

"Kasim of course." He should have known that the bastard would come up at some point. He had killed her family too, and she was equally as blood thirsty for his demise as well.

"What about him?"

"I need him to be in total misery." Ana's whole face was void of any turbulent emotion, except for in her eyes. Yes, she missed her family just as much as he missed his wive and daughter.

"Torturer him all you want, but the kill shot is mine."

"Now that Michael, is a deal." A purely angelic smile crossed her face reminding him so much of Amanda, he almost considered breaking his word.

"Now on to the current dilemma. How well can you act?"

"Well enough to do what you want to do. How far did it go?" She asked.

"Farther then it should have."

"For Division or for you?" Ana questioned slyly.

"Have you _ever _been in a romantic relationship with someone in top secret organization that forbids just that?"

"Sorry." She said without sounding sorry at all. "You know I think the real question is how well can _you_ act. Not me." Michael disregarded her comment, not wanting to even broach _that_ subject

"At the moment very well. I'm not too pleased with her right now."

It was then Michael saw Nikita exiting the ladies room, even if she obviously hadn't though. It was almost cliche how often "I'm going to the bathroom" was used as an alibi to go murder, poison or do some other illegal thing like that to someone.

"May I ask why Miss N is here tonight?"

"Percy is meeting with a explosives dealer here. She's probably got a recorder stashed somewhere on her, or she's already placed it and getting ready to collect it."

Ana raised a long finger to her chin, and tapped her face thoughtfully.

"Lets see here..."

* * *

Clink.

Nigel and Nikita's Champlain glasses chinked together softly before both taking a sip of the bubbly alcohol. A coy smile was painted across Nikita's face, but painted became closer to plastered when Michael's smoky voice drifted through the air like a warm summers breeze.

"A two glasses of red wine please."

Turning in mock surprise, Nikita yet again faced her ex trainer.

"Michael? What in the world are you doing here!" He crooked his head, and a small smirk graced his mouth as he came to fully face her.

"Is that who I think it is?" He said leaning against the bar table.

"Could you mistake me for anyone else?"

"I'll let you answer that one." The two's familiar dance of give and take was interrupted by a politely confused Nigel.

"I'm sorry who?-"

"Michael." Michael smirk turned into a genuine smile and gave a hearty handshake to the other man. "Once upon a time Nikita and I used to work together."

"I got into lots of trouble." Nikita said turning to Nigel with an apologetic grin on her face. He was so innocent and clueless. She felt shameful for deceiving him like this. At least what she had said so far wasn't a total lie.

"But you always got the job done."

"So that's whats taking you!"

Ana appeared from beside Michael, and gently put a delicate hand on his fore arm. It was then he noticed the scar. Thin, but jagged, it wrapped from beneath her chin, to past her ear. He could just see it's outline in the lighting, as it was meticulously camouflaged in foundation and powder that perfectly matched her peach toned skin.

"Analise, this is Nikita and,-?" Michael glanced courteously at the other. "Nigel, thank you."

From there on Ana commanded the charade like a master actress. The perfect balance of genuine emotion and enthusiasm. In three minuets, Ana created Analise Hoffs. A journalist born in Chicago who moved to New York and was working on a article about the newest art gallery that had just opened in the big apple. Occasionally Michael would add a fact or figure and Ana would weave whatever he said effortlessly into her story. The best part was watching Nikita squirm to try and find a way out of the conversation, but Ana kept on cutting her off.

Then after a mention of gang violence, Nigel's ears perked up even more then they already were. It didn't take years of training to see that this was something Nigel was very involved in. Like an eagle, Ana swooped in for the kill.

"You know what? Why don't we trade for a bit. You and Nikita can catch up and I would love to hear about your experiences with the gangs here in New York." She told Nigel earnestly, already looking absolutely fascinated with the conversation she had yet to ignite. Even better Nikita had no polite way of disagreeing. Damn she was good, Michael thought appreciatively.

"Play nice Michael!" Ana said with a flirty smile. Michael responded with a wink and turned triumphantly to face Nikita.

"It has been a while." He said while holding his arm out to her. Her demeanor was static and her posture stiff. She crossed her arms firmly, imbedding them into her body. Michael crossed her arms in turn with amusement dancing in his green eyes.

"Where do you meet her?"

"In a library actually- Vince Flynn had a new book out. And believe it or not Nikita, but I do have game if I put my mind to it."

"Well you are a tease." Nikita said coolly.

Annoyed, Michael leaning back against the bar's counter, bent down and whispered in her ear, his lips just touching the outer shell. His deep voice caused her to shiver.

"Humor me." Yet again Michael held his arm out to her, insinuating that this was not a request, but a statement. Cautiously Nikita took his arm and the two gracefully waltzed to the dance floor.

Once the two had taken their positions, Michael cut strait to the chase.

"So where did you find Alex?"

* * *

**AN: For some reason this chapter seemed really slow to me. Then of course feeling like crap does do that to you. I hate colds. X[ Please tell me what you think. This probably sounds like a broken record, but I really hated having to wait sooo long for a new episode to come on. Talk about annoying. Also on the Mikita front, I read that Michael and Nikita have their next battle against each other [like in Kill Jill] in a sauna. Talk about a missed opportunity! Thank you to all those who have reviewed so far, and I am very thankful to those who continue to do so.**

**Lots of love, -Jaug **


	7. Chapter 7

Nikita was perfectly silent. In the mean time, Michael expertly guided her unresponsive frame, gliding back and forth to the music. Her face was static, but inside fear, worry, outrage and jealously frothed and boiled in the inside of her stomach.

"Alex being the newest rising star of Division?"

"It's debatable. She may not be around for too long."

Nikita looked at him starting to become nervous. There was no way she was going to let him touch Alex. She was just about to moved into the outside world, but would remain inside the clutches of Division for a little while longer. Two, maybe three weeks at most. There were some skills Alex needed to be taught, like how to drive and some other simple things like doing laundry and cooking. Sliding on the silky face of indifference, she plainly asked Michael the question she knew he wanted her to ask.

"What do you want Michael?"

"I want to know why you didn't just let me be. I was less then a foot away from _him_!"

The look of undulated hatred in his eyes that night came back to her. Kasim might have been dead, but so would he. Just like Nikita knew that she would not allow Alex to die, Michael wouldn't be allowed to die either. Maybe she loved him. Maybe she didn't. So she said what she wanted to believe, but not what she knew to be true.

"It would have been a waste."

"Is that all? Somehow I think there's more." His eyes flashed with menace. Michael had always seen through her more then anyone else she had ever known.

"Don't flatter yourself." The words hurdled themselves at him the way a snake spats venom, and Michael response was more frigged then ice.

"Never."

"Let. Me. Go." The three words were as much of a threat as they were a plea, but he was in no hurry to forgive and forget or anything else particularly merciful. Anguish colored her thoughts. Why couldn't he see she had done this for him?

"Or what, no one will get hurt? Like I care." That was when Nikita started to become worried. Michael had always been so much more human then anyone else in Division. Nikita could just see the bluff in his eyes, but when he said something unfeeling as that, she knew he was hurting. There were only two paths she could walk on in this position. Let anger shine through, or let her hurt and vulnerability be uncovered. After a moment Nikita deduced the later would be more effective. Fury was far harder to enable forgiveness then hurt was. So she let her pain at his wrath filter through the many masks decorating her face, hoping that his own masks would begin to crumble.

"What happened to you Michael?" Nikita asked him softly.

"Hmm. Oh yeah, you."

"Don't do this." She said leaning up against him, resting her head on his strong chest. Nikita listened to his heart beat thump in a steady rhythm. He tensed up at her touch, and she could feel his hands clench up slightly at her slender waist.

"What is it exactly you want me to do?"

"Let me help you. Let me keep my promise to help you take him down."

"And for that you need my trust. However, trust is earned. Not given Nikita." Those deep green eyes were almost too intense to be true. So serious, so full of emotion, yet so cold. He couldn't do this to her. Not now. She wouldn't let him.

"As for that mole of yours, she'll be safe for now. I'm leaving for a mission in a few days and if I even see a single hair from your head, Alex will be dead before you can say goodbye." With that his hand slipped down to the hem of her dress, his knuckle stroking her bare thigh, as he fingered the small listening devise. Nikita barely caught the involuntary gasp forcing itself out of her mouth.

"And no matter what little fragments of Intel you gather,_ I do __**not**__ want you interfering_. Clear?"

"It's Kasim isn't it." This time she really did gasp. Nikita could just see the answer in his eyes. It had only been a few months! Something wasn't right here. Anyone who was powerful enough to royally piss someone off didn't just reappear after such a short period of time once confronted with an enemy. Nikita's mind was already buzzing with ideas and schemes. For now Michael would have to believe that she wasn't even going to try and interfere.

"You don't want my help? That's fine. It's your pathetic little half life after all." No emotion betrayed his facial features, but his hands left her body like she had burned him. Michael's arms were now firmly crossed against his chest.

"And if you even try and kill Alex... Then you truly are the monster Percy engineered you to be." His knuckles turned stark white. A type of vindictive pleasure flared up from her heart at the guilt she could have sworn flashing through his eyes. Threats were nothing more then threats if they were not followed up on.

" Have fun with your mission."

"Oh I intend to." Michael's eyes were green ice, steely with an emotion she couldn't quite place.

With the turn of her heel she whisked off the dance floor and nearly jogged over to where Analise and Nigel sat, still engaged in their conversation about gang violence. Nikita didn't remember the excuse she came up for her and Michael, but neither Nigel nor Ana noticed any inconsistencies. Ana's babbling was somewhat dreamy and idealistic, but reasonably entertaining all the same. Would Michael go and inform on her? Somehow she didn't think so. Nikita had realized that he probably didn't care about whatever Percy was discussing with whoever he was meeting with. Michael must have obtained some major Intel if he was so confident his newest plot to annihilate Kasim. What did he have this time that he didn't have last time? Whatever it was, a promise was a promise, and Nikita was going to find out exactly what he was going to do.

* * *

Ana was beginning to get bored. Nigel was almost too sweet and all this enthusiasm was getting to her. Another hour of this and she wouldn't be capable of sarcasm anymore. She had seen Michael slip off to talk too a senator from Arizona after his convo with Miss Nikita.

"_How far did it go?"_

"_Farther then it should have."_

Now that was what Ana called an understatement. Talk about tension! Now that was a relationship that had gone way beyond 'farther then it should have'. Ana could see it happening though. Two good looking, talented agents finding a challenge in each other, and eventually falling in love. It was the Daniel guys part on the Michael, Nikita equation she couldn't quite grasp. She had seen a picture of the guy and well... Yes, he was cute, but certainly not in Michael's league. Not that she had any romantic feelings for the man, but Ana knew a good looking guy when she saw him. Michael wasn't really _bad_ either. There was just something about him. Like he still was struggling not to see the gray areas in their line of work. Oh well. Maybe she would broach the subject come their mission. Besides, Ana had plenty of pain in her past and if there was anything she knew for certain, it was that whatever had happened between them... That was Michael's story to tell.

Speaking of Michael, Ana wondered. Was he going to stop talking to the blasted senator, or was he going to leave her to lose her sarcasm? When he did finally start to walk back toward the table she, Nikita and Nigel were all sitting at, Ana almost cheered. Michael made a rather clever excuse about wanting to introduce his lovely date to a famous journalist who was also attending the gala. Together they smoothly exited from Nigel's absolutely _fascinating_ lecture about, well, Ana couldn't quite remember. The character Analise had been paying rapt attention, but Ana hadn't. Something about illegal gun trade.

"How did your conversation go?" Ana asked him just as they left the party thirty minuets later.

"It was very illuminating." He said shortly. Michael's answer sparked her curiosity. Ana had known he was angry at her, but by just occasionally glancing at them in the corner of her eye she realized he wasn't just angry. He was positively furious at her. _But about what?_

"If I may ask, why are you so angry at her?" Yes having a former friend/lover trying to destroy the person you work for would probably be seriously annoying and occasionally infuriating, but not induce such a magnitude of fury.

"I'll tell you, but not tonight." He said tiredly pinching the bridge of his nose.

" Thank you for the distraction, your quite good."

"Your welcome." Ana told him with a soft smile. She dropped the subject of Nikita, confidant that he would tell her when he was ready. Ana had never been one to pry.

* * *

Amanda scanned her office thoughtfully, contemplating her next move. Her motives for helping Michael were the same as any of her other reasons; For herself. Leading others to believe she was doing something because it was right or some other pathetic righteous excuse like that was just apart of the game. People were far too willing to hope then she could fathom. However in the words of Abraham Lincoln; "You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time". Some people such as Michael were clever enough to simply never trust her. He would never totally believe anything that came out of her mouth, regardless how she twisted it. No, this information had to delivered from a different, more trusted source.

That would be tricky for several reasons. Three years ago Nikita would have been her first choice, but that was obviously not an option. Alex was a potential news way, but a young newly minted agent was nearly unreliable as Nikita. His Gogle partner had potential as a leak, but Amanda had read the bulk of her file, and it would be unlikely that Amanda could gain the upper hand. Miss Anastasia would be just as if not more skeptical as Michael would be. Before Kapstov had taken second in command, she had held the place of lead interrogator, the same place Amanda held. The woman's file was rather extensive for only a seven year agent, with numerous successful missions and interrogations respectively.

It was only when Amanda came across the name of Kaptsov's deceased twin sister, did she connect the dots to who Anastasia Kaptosv really was. Her first protege, and coincidentally, her niece.

* * *

**AN: Thank you so very much for the reviews, and for the get well wishes. It means a lot to me. I shall now send you all a big ol' plate of virtual brownies. As always, reviews much enjoyed.**

**Thanks, Juag  
**


	8. Chapter 8

It was dark. Too dark if fact. He was in a room, but he didn't know where. That was when Michael heard the cocking of a gun, but when reaching for his own, all he found nothing but his knife. In fact the same knife he had given Nikita. When whipped around, he found Kasim smiling at him with glee.

"_I was hopping to see you again Michael. You were such a trusting friend."_

_Before Michael could say a word, another voice drifted from the other side of the room._

"_You always knew how to tease me Michael. Remember this is for the best." Nikita told him earnestly, wrapping her arms around Daniel. But how could he be here, he's dead Michael thought. Alex hovering from behind her teacher, glaring with disdain._

"_I am so sorry." Horrified Michael spun around again to see Ana laying on the floor clutching a bloodied wound, her hair in a matted, curly mess. A gun shot rang out and Ana slumped to the ground. Owen and Fletcher stood next to each other, watching the Gogle agent die._

"_It's over Michael. There's no turning back." Owen's voice was strong and confident like any good Division agent. Fletcher just stared at him sadly._

"_He's right you know. You never were more then a pawn in my game." This time Percy stepped out from behind Kasim and in a fatherly gesture, put a hand on Kasim's shoulder._

"_Good bye Michael." With Kasim's final fair well, his gun went off, pointing strait for his head.

* * *

_

Michael woke with a start from the nightmare, accompanied by loud gasping breaths. He angrily threw the sweaty covers from over his body and swiftly walked to the bathroom. A few moments later cold water rushed over him causing teeth to chatter. After about ten minuets of the icy water turned his skin numb, clearing his mind. He hadn't had a nightmare in years, as he made it a point to work himself so hard that moment his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light. Once out of the shower, he looked at the clock besides his bed and saw that he had four hours to go before his flight to Uzbekistan left JFK air port.

Michael slumped down in a chair, gazing out the large horizontal window that revealed in New York's glory. It was early morning still, and the sun had yet to peak out from beyond the horizon. He breathed deeply, thinking about the dream that had driven him from some shut eye. They had all been there; Nikita, Alex, Owen, Fletcher, Percy, Kasim and Ana. They had all been there, taunting him with words from the past, and words Michael dreaded to hear. The worst part was nearly all they said was true. He was just a pawn and there was no turning back for him at all. He buried his face in his hands with anger in his fractured heart. A moment later he jerked up from the chair and stomped over to the punching bag that hung in an adjoining room.

* * *

Alex sat in her room looking at it's bare coverings. She would be out of this prison in just two more weeks. She was so close, yet so far away from Nikita and her's ultimate goal, Division's down fall. Alex hoped she wouldn't need to use the diary she found in Jaden's room, but if it came down to it she would. No it wouldn't serve as a very good physical weapon, but as a mental weapon, it could be quite powerful. Or at least powerful enough to knock Jaden down long enough for her to make a get away.

The diary had been unexpected because Jaden really _didn't _seem like the type of person to write down her thoughts and feelings. But after reading the first page Alex found it had been Amanda's idea anyways, so she was right. Even by skimming Alex could see that most entries included numerous swear words staining the white pages with pathetic excuses for Jaden's insecurities. However, every once in awhile, an actually genuine emotion would appear throughout the pages, pooling to the surface. Things had been so much less complicated before Alex had entered Division. When she was a sex slave, there were good guys and bad guy with nothing between. Nikita had warned her not to, Alex had seen Division as the bad guys, and Nikita as a good guy until she met her fellow recruits. They were a lot like her, but completely naive to Division's true intentions.

Then there was always Michael.

Her handler was the epitome of 'gray area'. Not really a bad guy, but not really a good one either. Nikita had never told her why he joined Division, saying that that was his story to tell. All she had told Alex, was that if the name Kasim was ever mentioned, to tell her immediately. When she asked Nikita if this Kasim had to do with Michael's unwavering loyalty to Percy, she replied with a vague "Something like that" as her answer. Alex had known Nikita long enough to not be fazed by the cryptic comments she made whenever selective aspects of her past were brought up. Lying back down on her bed, Alex sighed. Now she had a full two hours to try and not think about Thom before her driving lessons began.

Great

* * *

"_Said poison is also kept highly under some very trigger happy locks by Gogle."_

"_Yes and I need it."_

Owen and Nikita listened carefully to the recording Nikita had been able to recover from Percy and Damien Jacks meeting. They sat in chairs surrounding a large wooden table in Nikita's spacious loft.

"How exactly did you manage to get this recording again, especially with Percy's lap dog hovering around?" Owen questioned. He had never actually met Michael personally, but like any other Division agent, knew exactly who Michael was. Owen just enjoyed calling him a lap dog, because far as he cared, that's kind of what he was.

"I'm special like that." Nikita replied blandly. Currently, she was far more focused on finding out more about this mysterious poison. "Besides, for some reason I don't think he cared all that much- Didn't even point a gun at me."

Owen raised his eyebrows thoughtfully, his view of Michael brightening considerably. "Either he was thinking, you know what? Screw this, or he's a terrible loser."

"I think the former." She said without looking up from her lap top. "Being a lap dog can get quite boring you know, not to mention annoying." Nikita finally glanced up from the lap top and gave him a pointed look, silently reminding him that he had been a said lap dog once too.

"Good point."

"Do you know anything about this poison? _The Widow._"

"I know Percy had a point when he said the name wasn't creative."

Nikita rolled her eyes and continued to surf the internet for information.

"I was thinking more along the lines of _useful_ Owen."

"Nikita I think we both already know what the answer is."

They looked up at each other for a moment, silently realizing that this was going nowhere. Gogle like Division, kept their trademark inventions and poisons under a dead lock. Unless you were apart of the organization, it was virtually impossible to obtain. Alex couldn't help her this time.

Owen leaned back in his chair and sighed, when after a scan of the room, saw a suit case open on the floor. Inside were neatly folded clothes, toiletries and a wicked black knife.

"Going on a trip somewhere?"

"I hope so." she murmured.

"Where?"

"Owen..."

"Let's rephrase the question;" he said calmly, putting his elbows on the table, hands folded beneath his chin."Do you need back up?"

Nikita stood up from her chair and went to face the large glass windows spanning the loft.

"It would be the sensible thing to do."

"So where are we going?" Owen lounged back in his chair, and put his feet up on the table.

"The reason for this trip is between myself and a-" She swallowed hard. "A friend."

"A friend friend, a BFF, a friend with benefits, a friendemy, what?" he said with concern coloring his voice. He saw Nikita glance back at him slightly before turning to face the windows again. She seemed to be deciding whether to tell him something or not.

"Do you know how Michael got into Division?" Her question surprised as much as it intrigued him.

"No, but do tell."

"A terrorist killed his family, Percy offered revenge. About two months ago, the terrorist turned up, Michael raced over to Uzbekistan, and so did I. At first everything was fine, and then it just went down hill from there."

The first part made sense to Owen. Terrorist murders family, then seeks revenge. His view of Michael had just become ten times more sympathetic from just hearing that.

"What happened?"

"All it really comes down to, is that I stopped him from dying. But in turn I stopped him a foot away from killing Kasim." Nikita turned to face him fully. Her eyes shimmered the way they had when he told her he had been the one to kill Daniel. "Michael has waited over nine years for vengeance. You could say forgiveness doesn't really come all that naturally to him."

Owen wasn't sure how to feel. Part of him completely understood how Michael was feeling. Like everything in the world that mattered had wrenched from your stomach; empty and numb. However what Nikita had done was for the best and this was obviously hurting her. Ever since Emily, there he said it, _Emily_, he had slowly began to de- thaw from the icy indifference Division had injected in his very veins. It had taken some time, but gradually genuine feeling began to integrate itself in his phantom heart. It seemed ironic that the person to bring him back to something close to human had been killed, tainting whatever humanity that was in him with revenge. He missed Emily _so much_. Sometimes he would freeze at a simple action, because it would bring back a vivid image of her to life.

"Nikita. You did the right thing. Even if he can't see it." Owen looked her in the eye with as much sympathy he could project. Even if there was more emotion instilled in him then there had been in a long, long, time, hugs were glaringly out of his new found range of comforting techniques

"I know. I also made promise that I would help him kill Kasim, and I'm not about to break it." Nikita told him, her voice growing stronger with every word.

Owen already knew his answer.

"When do we leave?"

* * *

**AN: Reviews and feed back much enjoyed. Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

Files and errant papers littered a large cork board firmly placed in the center of the abandoned basement floor. It was ratty and peeling paint chips littered the worn concrete floor. Regardless, it's bind spots were nil and it's advantages numerous, so it was a thumbs up. Honestly Michael and Ana could have chosen any expensive hotel they wanted, but that was one of Division's and Gogle' s flaws; predictability. By themselves, all they wanted was to be incognito as possible. And really? Luxurious didn't quite mean the same thing to them any more.

"So Hameed is doing an arms deal?" Michael leaned casually against the table with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Not exactly an arms deal."

Michael jerked up from the table and walked over to stand next to her.

"I thought you said it was an automatic artillery deal, Ana."

"That's what I thought too," she said sending him a dark look. "Until I realized the automatic artillery was a cover term for something else. Whatever is being sold, which I really hope I'm not right about, is going to be done so very quickly."

"What do you think it is being sold?," Michael asked, wary of the worried look glinting in her eyes.

"Someone leaked Gogle's blue prints for a special type of poison called _The Widow_." Ana stood intently in front of the cork board, occasionally moving a stray paper here and there.

"What does it do?"

"It damages the nerve endings in a body. You start to spasm, and your motor skills begin to deteriorate when the poison hits your system," she said grimly.

"Sounds painful," Michael added blandly. Ana smiled.

"So I've heard. By the, it's nice to see you out of a suit."

"_Michael...Is that you?" Nikita stared dumbfounded at her handler in dark jeans, a leather jacket and green t shirt._

_Michael hardy glanced up, but Nikita could see the smile on his mouth._

"_No, it's Birkhoff," he said sarcastically. "How could you even think it was Michael!"_

"_Shut up." _

Michael grinned.

"I get that a lot."

* * *

"Are you sure we're even in the right country?"

"Owen? Shut up," Nikita snapped.

The streets of Urgench, Uzbekistan were quiet and cold. The morning sun could just be detected through a layer of fleecy fog. Inside the car's cabin it was toasty warm, but the outside temperature was near 42 degrees. Owen and Nikita had been driving aimlessly around the streets, hoping to find something to help them find a way to contact Michael, or at least provide back up.

Before leaving, Nikita had reached out to a few of her contacts, hoping that someone had heard something. Ironically enough, it was Henry again who supplied her with Intel. Not much though, he could only get her a general location. It would have been perilous to have dug any deeper. After checking into all of the hotels in area, Nikita and Owen found them all completely void of an sort of shady black ops group. The two quickly concluded that Michael was hiding out in some vacant building.

"OK Nikita, you know him best. Where does he go when he doesn't want to be found?"

_The red blood slicked across her hand was the first thing Nikita saw when regained consciousness. The second was a very concerned Michael looking down on her._

"_How do you feel?"_

"_Painful," she groaned, attempting to sit up before Michael pushed her back down._

"_What happened?"_

"_You were shot."_

"_No kidding," she said, still able to manage sarcasm despite the burning pain in her upper thigh. Michael shot her an irritated look, one that fell from his face quickly as it came, returning to worry._

"_It's not funny. I thought I'd lost you a couple times." Michael's voice was deep and quiet as always, but there was a type of gentleness about it that she hadn't heard before. Taking a deep breath, Nikita took her time observing her surroundings._

"_Where are we?"_

"_An old basement I was able to find. The guy who owns it is one of those environment nuts, who rides his bike everywhere. I stole the keys when he wasn't looking," Michael said looking satisfied with his handy work. Nikita was a little less impressed. The basement, though safe, smelled funny and had little warmth. A small lamp hanging from the ceiling gave the room a dismal feeling and little light._

"_Why a basement?" she asked._

"_A mixture of sentimental value and convenience I guess." _

"_You? Sentimental?"_

_He mock glared at her before answering._

"_My parent's had some very loud showdowns before they finally got divorced. My sister and I would hide out in our basement so we wouldn't have to hear them argue," he said._

_Nikita, unsure of what to say, settled for "Oh."_

"Not many of the apartments here have basements, but some of the houses do. Let's check those out first."

"A _basement_?" The skepticism in his voice was obvious.

"Owen?"

"Right, basements."

It took another several hours [that felt even longer due to bickering] to find any likely hide-outs. It was near midnight when the two of them finally checked their second to last potential location in the area.

"I take back what I said before. He's actually smart choosing a location like this. It's hardly Division's typical mo," Owen murmured checking his gun. Nikita said nothing choosing to observe the buildings weaknesses instead.

The house standing in front of her was rickety and old; worn and weathered from times toll. It would be very difficult to sneak up on Michael if this was were he was hiding out. That house was probably more creaky then an old mattress. He had chosen well if this was even the right location.

"We storm the area, then head to the basement? There's really no use in attempting stealth."

"I know," Nikita responded quietly. "Let's go."

The house was more silent then a graveyard, except for the loud creaking panels below their feet. When Nikita and Owen finally reached the deserted kitchen of the house, neither had found any existence of a trap door to a basement. Owen slumped against a dusty brick counter and sighed loudly.

"Were the hell is he?"

"I don't- wait. Did you hear that?" A sharp scuttling and bang could be heard coming from the living room. They both rushed into the dark room, to find the rug on the floor to be messed up and rippled where it had once lain flat. Owen carefully pulled it's expanse back to expose a large wooden trap door.

"Now which one of us want's to go down first?" Owen asked, looking up at Nikita with a grin. She simply rolled her eyes, and half shoved him to the side before gently pulling the trap door up, careful to make as little noise as possible. As there were no stairs below, and she would have to lower herself down to the floor. Michael had chosen his base very, very well. It was only after her feet touched the ground did Nikita realize something had gone wrong. A loud "Oomph!" could be heard from above, along with the equally loud slam of the trap door.

"Owen!" she called, banging on the door above her.

"Whatever weapon you have, drop it." Nikita turned to see Michael lounging in a chair near a long table filled with papers and pictures of Kasim in different locations and disguises. His gun aimed directly at her head. She slowly dropped her gun, bebe and knife on the floor, each one creating a quiet thunk.

"I thought I told you not to interfere?"

His voice was just as chilling as it had been at the gala. Preferring not to answer Michael's question, she walked forward, fingering one of the photo's.

"Who'd Percy have to get in bed with to supply you with this?"

"Oh you know, Gogle," a female voice said from behind her. A loud thump followed, and Nikita spun around to find Owen on the floor, unconscious. Before she could rush to where he lay, a beautiful red head woman dropped from the ceiling, landing gracefully beside him. Nikita was even more shocked to find she recognized her.

* * *

"Are you sure you can handle them?" Percy asked, feeling slightly concerned.

"Percy, I will have numerous body guards and distractions surrounding the meeting area. There is no need to worry," a male voice said from the other end of the phone.

"Oh I'm not worried about _you_, I'm worried about my money." Percy could hear Kasim laughing from the other end. "Michael has a wonderful habit of succeeding."

"Your money will be perfectly safe with me, don't even think otherwise," he said still chuckling. "But I do have a few questions."

"Such as?"

"What about the woman that was with him the last time?"

"Nikita?" Percy said with a frown. "All I can really say is to be prepared. It would be so much like her to mess this up."

"She's interfered before?" The older man could hear the surprise in Kasim's voice.

"Unfortunately, but fortunately for you, she's soft. Make sure to mention her fiance Daniel if you want to catch her off guard."

"I will keep that in mind. Do I want to know why I should?" Kasim questioned slyly.

"He's dead."

"Ah, and in an accident of course." Percy almost laughed at the terrorist's disapproving tone.

"How did you know?"

"Well Percy I will call you in about 48 hours, and by that time, Michael, Kaptsov and Nikita if present, will be dead."

"Excellent."

* * *

**AN: Sorry this took awhile, as plot points can be really difficult to figure out. Updates should never be this late again, so bear with me. Thank you for previous reviewers, and current reviews are always welcomed. Thanks for reading.**

**-Juag  
**


	10. Chapter 10

"Analise?"

"It's Anastasia actually, but I still prefer Ana."

Nikita felt almost shell shocked the same woman she had deemed nothing more then frivolous, could also be this cunning, cat like woman in front of her.

"Now, I know _your_ name, but I don't know his," Ana said, looking quite relaxed despite having just knocked out someone at least forty pounds heavier.

"Owen Elliot, another rouge Division agent."

"What is it with your Division agents? Ari would have personally slit the offenders throat, and made the rest of us drink their blood," she said to Michael. Nikita didn't know what disturbed her more. What she said, or the offhand tone tone she said it in.

"They keep on falling in love," Michael said with his usual dry wit.

"How annoying."

Maybe it was because Nikita was still in shock, or maybe it was that she knew Michael far too well, but somehow she could tell he was actually enjoying this conversation. _They keep falling in love_; The comment brought out her anger, causing her to spin on her heel to face Michael.

"You hypocrite. Because Owen and have _so little_ self-control," she taunted. Nikita would have gone on, but before she could really start a verbal sparing match, Ana interrupted.

"You know, this would make an awesome reality TV show." Nikita whipped her head around to send an icy glare, but was unable to wipe the amused expression on Ana's face.

"Sorry, please continue."

"I really should have shot you when I had the chance." Nikita noticed that he neglected to say kill.

"Then kill me now."

"That can be arranged."

"We both know you couldn't do it."

Michael shrugged

"Depends if I have too."

"You're an even worse liar then when I left."

"And you're even more reckless," he countered, not that he had much material to work with.

"OK, this is getting us nowhere. So go kiss, make up, have sex, whatever it is you do, because we've got a terrorist to kill." Ana's comment shocked Michael and Nikita into silence as she proceeded to heave Owen out of the basement, and began to drag him to what would hopefully be a bed. They heard faint, "Have fun!" before silence returned to greet them once more.

"Owen won't be a happy camper when he wakes up you know."

"Something tells me Ana can take care of herself."

Nikita looked around the basement trying to ignore the hot feeling spreading through her limbs. It had been a long time since she had been all alone in a room with Michael. She didn't like this. She didn't like the situation she was in, or the feeling of distrust spread thickly in the air. It was almost suffocating.

"It's locked," Michael hissed after a moment of violently tugging on the trap door.

The tension was almost killing her. Nikita bit her lip for a moment, considering her options. There were always options after all, weren't they? Was there anything she could say to make this right, she wondered. Her hands were beginning to sweat, and her stomach fluttered with nerves.

"You know I can't apologize for doing something I don't regret," she said quietly.

"Nikita, you... You don't get it do you," he growled. "I was so close to getting him! Five more seconds, and the bastard would have been gone. But no, you just _had_ to save me." By now Michael was almost yelling.

Nikita desperately wanted to escape from Michael's frightening intense glare. She was used to seeing such a look on his face, but not pointed directly at her. Nikita saw his ice green ones soften ever so slightly at sight of traitorous tears beginning to well up in her eyes. While Michael had been yelling, he had slowly walked closer an closer to her; if she just stretched her arm out a few more inches, their hands would touch. It was becoming very difficult to think in such a proximity to him, and Nikita found she didn't really want to. Thinking would just provide her with more reasons to why this twisted romance could never work.

"Michael..." She reached out and placed a hand on his rough cheek.

Carefully, she met his lips to hers, for a soft kiss. After a blissful moment Michael pulled away, his eyes unreadable.

"I couldn't let you get hurt," she said softly, as a tear slid down her cheek. "I don't know what would happen to me if you were dead."

Michael said nothing, but answered her by wrapping his arms around her waist and pulled her into a deep kiss.

* * *

Owen lay sprawled on a small twin bed in one of the houses old rooms. Ana though he looked mighty peculiar just laying there, his arms and legs bound by a heavy usage of duct tape. Thank goodness she kept some vials of sleep serum and injectors on her at all times. Strange for some, but not for an assassin. However, now she had nothing to do since Micheal and Nikita had gone Keeping up with the Kardashians on her.

Bzzzzz

Bzzzzz

The nondescript ringing of her cell phone was a welcome, but wary distraction. Very few people knew that number, and none of them were those to whom often brought her good news.

"Hello?"

"My goodness Stasia, it has been quite a while since I last heard from you." Amanda's ever collected voice could easily be heard through the phone's speaker. It had been a good eleven years since Ana had heard that voice, as they hadn't exactly parted ways under good terms.

"It's Ana now, and there is a reason I haven't attempted to contact you," she said coldly.

"Oh I know that. I also remember you used to throw a fit if anyone called you anything other then Stasia. What changed?"

"Me," Ana said shortly. Amanda liked to play with her food before she ate it, and she wasn't going to give her the chance. "What do you want Amanda?"

"Percy tipped Kasim off. They're going to be expecting you."

"Amanda, the first thing you taught me was never to trust anyone. Least of all you," Ana told her former teacher calmly. She wasn't surprised in the slightest if Percy and Kasim were working together though.

"And I almost thought you'd never learn it. The death of your family may have been the best thing to happen to your training." Amanda's comment may have been extremely offensive to some, but Ana knew that Amanda was only speaking her mind. There was no personal baggage behind it.

"Jee, thanks. Why not call Michael?"

"Because Stacia, you know me better then he does." Ana knew it was true, she did.

"I'll take your tip into consideration. Anything else?"

"Tell Nikita I said hi," Amanda told her, causing Ana to chuckle softly.

"If she shows up, I will." Ana hung up the phone still laughing.

* * *

**AN: It's a little shorter then usual, but the next few will be longer. Can you believe that last episode? WE HAVE TO WAIT TILL APRIL _SEVENTH _TO FIND OUT WHATS GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT? _WHAT! _ Ok, fangirl moment over, but come on, April seventh? Reviews always enjoyed, and thank you for reading,**

**-jaug  
**


	11. Chapter 11

"Who is your replacement for Michael?" Amanda asked with a her usual vacant sweetness after entering Percy's office.

"That is my business Amanda, until I deem it to be yours too," he remarked, but wise added "I'm sorry, but it's a necessary precaution," after looking up to see the cat like gleam in Amanda's eyes.

"Necessary I'm sure, but I'm more concerned about Michael's replacement," she said, perching herself on the edge of his desk.

"Please don't tell me you're planning on using Eli quite so soon." Amanda tilted her head, carefully watching Percy's reaction. A crook of the neck, a brief glance upward, a twitch of his fingers: a subtle sign was all she needed. A clenched fist and an annoyed glare nearly threw the answer into her lap.

"Oh Percy, please,"she sighed, exasperated by Percy's want to discard Michael like a used candy wrapper. "Eli hardly has the capability to command the respect of his peers, much less the experience to guide them."

In Amanda's, abet mordant opinion, Eli was five feet seven inches of teenage angst and would have to get over what she fondly referred to as the 'Romeo and Juliet stage' before he would be ready to even begin his basic training as a second in command. He had an astonishing amount of potential, but had yet to develop the level of ridged control that made Michael far superior.

"He'll do fine," Percy snapped. "Michael's been far too compromised by Nikita and his past to continue as my second in command...He knows too much." He leaned back into his chair, far more resigned then he had been not a few moments before. Amanda's thoughts swirled around her head, idea's and strategies forming, and dissipating once a flaw could be spotted. Percy was worried that Michael was slipping from his power hungry grip, and was using excuses to throw away a perfectly useful pawn to manipulate. Amanda frowned slightly thinking of the difficulty of manipulating Michael. He wasn't exactly what you would call play doe. Stasia being her niece, would know most of her strategies as well.

Perhaps it was time for a power play, she mused.

* * *

_The large loft was modern and expensive, with hues of blue painted on the walls. The room, although well decorated, lacked a sense of family and real emotion. To the young girl wondering about the loft, the place reminded her of a diamond neck less that laid proudly on a pillow of plush purple velvet in the house of her stuffy great aunt Mariya. Aunt Mariya was a prideful, middle aged woman, who's most prized possession was that delicate neck less. She kept it in pristine condition, never in anyone's memory had there ever been a speck of dust on that diamond. But never had she ever worn it. The neck less, like this loft, was beautiful and expensive but there was no one to enjoy it for what it was meant for._

_A ten year old Anastasia reached out to touch a large painting adorning one of the towering walls, when the familiar click, clack of patent heels quietly echoed through the wooden flooring._

"_I wouldn't touch that if I were you. Oils from your fingers can ruin the painting," Amanda remarked softly, standing not far behind the girl._

"_Do you really care about the painting?"_

_Ana's question caused Amanda to tilt her head in interest at the young girl. _

"_What makes you think I don't?"_

"_Everything's all new and clean here." A pause stretched through the air as Ana pondered the exact word she was searching for " Untouched, I suppose," she said thoughtfully, turning to face her aunt._

"_Besides, it's just a painting."_

"_It's an original," Amanda said haughtily _

"_So?" Ana gestured slightly back at the painting. "Anyone can splatter paint on a white canvas."_

_Amanda looked down at Ana, amusement beginning to creep into her eyes. It was the first time she had met her niece in person, instead of the yearly holiday family card. Amanda's sister, once proud and strong, had met a jolly good American boy and that foolish sister of hers had fallen in love with him. What a pity had been the first words out of her mouth when Helina had told her the news of their engagement. _

_Joesph, Ana's father, worked for the American embassy and would be stationed in Japan soon. Currently a situation had arisen, and Joesph and his wife had to send their daughters away for a short while. Ana's twin sister, Nadia, was staying with another family member whom had unfortunately not been able to take care of Ana as well. Amanda who, although under false pretenses, had recently rebuilt ties to her sister volunteered to take Ana in for the next week or so. Gaining her childrens trust would be the fastest way to gain Joesph's trust._

"_I think we're going to have lots of fun together," Amanda said with a gentle smile.

* * *

_

A throbbing head ache was the first thing Owen was aware of when he drifted back into consciousness. The next was the cold, restricting feel of metal cuffs around his wrists and ankles. This was not good. What about Nikita he thought nervously. All he could remember was a sharp sting to the back of his neck, and then nothing.

"Welcome back to the land of the living Owen. I can just call you Owen right?"

Owen jerked up quickly, only to fall to the floor with a loud bang. To the red heads credit, she only raised one well groomed eye brow in response to the spectacle in front of her.

"No, I'm not going to torture you, the cuffs were just for precaution. Yes, I'm working with Michael, no I'm not Division, and yes Nikita is perfectly fine,"she said sounding bored.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked irritably, rubbing his eyes with a cuffed wrist..

"Your new bff," the woman in front of him said flatly. "Or at least I'm pretty sure we will be. Judging from the lack of yelling, I assume they're getting along quite well."

"They're, meaning Michael and Nikita?"

"Who else?"

Owen was torn between amusement and distinct indignation that Nikita was ready to jump Michael's bones the first chance she got.

"Is letting them sleep together really a good idea? And can you _please_ get me out of these things?"

The woman grinned wryly at him, before tossing over a set of keys.

"No it's probably not. I'm going to interrupt their honey moon in a moment, unless you want to help that is. Anything else?"

"A name," Owen muttered, while un cuffing his ankles, "And if you ever drug me again, you will find yourself in a hospital with no memory of the past three years of your life."

"Ana, and duly noted," she rectified with an air of nonchalance.

Getting up from the chair she had been sitting in, Ana marched over, and banged loudly on the trap door.

"I'm giving you five before I come-,"she yelled, but was interrupted by a offhand slap to the back of her head.

"What was that for?"

Owen, clearly hoping for a more violent reaction was disappointed to receive nothing more then a vicious glare. He would have continued, but Nikita's voice traveled up into the room.

"You can come down you know."

"You sure?" Owen called.

"Yes," Michael replied, irritated.

Wordlessly Owen slid down into the basement, landing lightly on his feet and Ana followed soon after. The room was cramped and crammed with papers, pictures and maps of the same general people and locations. After an assessment of the room, Owen looked over Nikita and Michael, taking in the ruffled clothing, satisfied expressions and their intimate body language. He was suddenly taken back to a memory of Emily teaching him how to cook something there then a sandwich. A painful ache began to build in his stomach, making him feel reckless.

"So have you two made any vital discoveries together?" Ana cut the tension smoothly by directing her jibe towards Michael and Nikita.

"None that you would care to hear about," Michael answered pleasantly.

"What Intel do we have?" Owen cut in gruffly.

"We know where and when the meet is, but we still need to scout the surrounding area," Ana said in a busyness- like voice.

"When is the meet, or whatever is going down, going down?"

"Two days from now at sunrise."

Owen looked around the room feeling the burn of emotion after being cut off from any for so long. Nikita looked determined, Michael collected and Ana busyness-like. He could really use a beer right now, he thought. What had he gotten himself into?

"Let's get to work."

* * *

**AN: I've been swamped with homework this week so yeah. Thank you for the awesome support!**

**-Jet  
**


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